Endeavor
by PallaPlease
Summary: Original YJ team fic!  Feel the joy yet?  Marginal angst, hints of fluff, and a teensy bit of introspection.  [Complete]


AN: So, you actually decided to read this, eh? Poor fool. *grins* Anyway, Impulse x Arrowette, just so you know. Any Robin/Secret stuff is the result of my inability to control that part of my imaginative writing mind…  
  
If you think either one of those couples are…  
  
A) Screwed.  
B) Crazy.  
C) Completely untrue because, I'm quoting here, "Spoiler and Robin are perfect!" or "Impulse and Arrowette?!", the latter not being an excuse in any way, but a kid I know had that response once.  
  
Don't read this. (Trust me, Imp/Arrow or Rob/Secret is no where NEAR as freaky/nutty/screwy/just-plain-BIZZARE as this strange, strange, STRANGE [I'm tellin' you, it's strange] idea for, of all the people, Li'l Lobo and Empress [!!]…)   
  
But, if you happen to like Imp/Arrowette, feel free to read! (And for those waiting for a Superboy/Wondergirl fic, don't hold your horses/don't hold your breath.)  
  
So, without further rambling/useless babbling/chattering/what's up with these alternating speech thingies?/yakking/typing on my part, the fanfic!  
  
Time/Set: Before Cissie quit the team. *&.^*  
  
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REQUEST!!!!!!!!!!!!  
REQUEST!!!!!!!!!!!!  
REQUEST!!!!!!!!!!!!  
I want at least ONE REVIEW for this fanfic! *gets big wobbly eyes* Just one!  
  
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*~*ENDEAVOR*~*  
  
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*~*BY PALLAPLEASE*~*  
  
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A steady thunk-thunk-thunk sound came from an empty metal-plated room, the sound of hard arrows crashing into a thick sheet-metal target glinting ominously in the relative darkness. Sweeping back her gold hair, stringing and pulling back the bow string all in one fluid motion, Cissie "Arrowette" Jones released another one of her deadly, sharp weapons. With purpose in her stride, she quickly walked to where multiple arrows lay either on the cold floor or embedded in the sheet of metal and began gathering them up, dropping the projectiles back into her quiver with an almost eerie air of practiced ease. Yawning softly, she rubbed at her blue eyes, tired and exhausted from her hours of self-induced training.   
  
Standing up from her kneeling position, Arrowette, a sleepy look about her, exited the room and bumped into someone she knew very well indeed. Bart "Impulse" Allen. Shrieking, startled, she jumped slightly and stumbled backwards a few steps while Impulse mirrored her purposefully.   
  
"BART!!" she gasped loudly, clutching at her bow and quiver, she glared as he made a face rudely. Sighing, Arrowette peeled herself away from the wall and marched up to him. "What are you doing?" she asked calmly and quietly, somewhat angry as a result of her lack of sleep and his surprising her.  
  
Impulse shrugged, his mask pulled back and the messy, rather unusual, red-brown hair framing his face tangled more than usual. Mischief glinting in his yellow eyes, he poked her nose and stuck his tongue out. "Getting you, Cissie," he answered lightheartedly as he snatched her tools from her in a lighting fast movement of his hands. "I'llcarrythese," he rushed, pleased with the caught-off-guard look on her face, beaming as she nodded, smiling companionably at him.   
  
In an instant, he vanished from the hallway, the assorted papers left by any and all members of Young Justice left soaring and drifting back to the metallic floor in his wake.   
  
Hair blown backwards by the swift wind, she shook her head, smiling lopsidedly and waiting patiently.  
  
A moment passed slowly, torturously so.  
  
"Um, where's your room?"  
  
Impulse smiled sheepishly up at her, the four inches of difference in their heights made more acute by the youthful expression of childish embarrassment he was displaying on his eager face. Giggling momentarily, she rested a hand on his shoulder and pulled him along behind her.   
  
*~*  
  
Wisping through the still air of the corridors, the young, teenaged form of a girl constructed from mist and smoke wove through the silent halls. Closing her eyes briefly, she took a deep breath, focusing intently on one certain power, trying to force herself back into a physical shape.  
  
After agonizing seconds of struggle, she surrendered reluctantly, unable to fulfill that one wish, that one beloved dream. Frustrated, she sank to the floor, rolling clouds of fog ripping from her legs and coalescing back into her through her arms, the cycle endlessly renewed. Howling without sound, she pounded the floor, no sound rebounding forth, only causing the area she had slammed her fists into to chill and beads of water-'sweat'-to spring up. A bitter tear slipped down her cheek, splashing wetly through her hand and onto the metal. Choking, she pulled herself into a bundle, weeping, body racked and broken with each harsh, grating heave her throat and lungs expelled.   
  
Funny, she thought ironically, that even when I'm not 'alive', I can cry and have a runny nose…  
  
Sniffling, she rubbed at her face with the back of her hand and floated up to her feet, rapidly spiraling down the narrow passageway.   
  
*~*  
  
With a start, Tim Drake sat up in bed, wrinkling his eyebrows together and yawning half-heartedly. Glancing about the miniscule room he used when staying at the JLA's HQ, he felt his breathing slow, his heartbeat even out hesitantly. Grimacing at the feel of his unwashed (for six days at least), grimy (from the battles) costume against his skin, he made a disgusted face and blanched at the thought of returning to sleep-the time shining from the all-powerful Digital Clock reading 2:46 AM, after all-in it. Rolling out of the cot-bed, he literally peeled off his shirt and cape and moved hastily to the tiny closet, opening it quickly and pulling out a change of uniform. He paused for a second.   
  
Nah. Batman wouldn't like it if he changed the color scheme.   
  
Finishing his early morning clothing exchange, he became still, listening almost reproachfully, almost parentally, as Impulse and Arrowette walked-amazingly-past his closed door, stage-whispering and giggling. Muttering under his breath, sounding more like a stern, fatherly Bruce than Robin wanted to admit, the black-haired teenager groaned softly and fell to the bed lazily, a dull 'whumf' emanating from the mattress.   
  
"Robin?"  
  
*~*  
  
Yawning, Cissie leaned against her door and fumbled with the knob, through her haze, she tried to turn it-the wrong way. Impulse, wired and alert as always, smirked and, with a cocky "Allow me", he opened the door for her. Blinking blearily behind her red mask-which she promptly tore from her face, wincing at the sharp pain of the tape ripping away from her skin-Arrowette stumbled, with the support of her closest friend, to the sheet-covered bed.   
  
Unusually careful, Impulse assisted her by pulling back the covers and then tucking her in. Smiling briefly, she fell into slumber quickly, her breathing steady and soft. Glancing around hesitantly, the young speedster leaned cautiously over her, brushing his lips tenderly across her forehead before disappearing in a lightning streaked gust of wind.  
  
In her sleep, Cissie smiled blissfully and murmured.  
  
*~*  
  
Robin looked up, squinting in the blackness of his quarters. The gently glowing form of Secret hovered by his bed. "Suzie…?" he managed to get out, the question turned into a garbled, mangled sort of sleepy grumble. Smiling weakly, she nodded unsurely, watching her hands where they lay clasped in her lap.   
  
"Robin, I…," her voice trailed off and she bit her lip, agitated by her own apprehension. "I want to thank-you," she blurted, burningly self-conscious.   
  
He blinked, feeling a deep sleepiness in his bones. "Suzie," he started groggily, "you're welcome."   
  
It was her turn to blink.  
  
"What?"   
  
He rolled his eyes, stifling a yawn. "You're welcome." With that, he closed his eyes and fled the constraints of consciousness.  
  
For a stunned moment, she sat there, then smiled.   
  
"I know."  
  
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END.  
STOP CHEERING.  
Anyway, I know it was short. But I'm tired, I'm grumpy, I need sleep, and I'm fending off approximately 19 Imp x Arrowette fanfiction ideas, as well as a Li'l Lobo/Empress idea, made even stranger by the fact that I have no knowledge aside from the Internet over both characters and I'll tend to base Li'l Lobo on the Lobo from the SUPERMAN animated series shown on Cartoon Network (yes, I know SUPERMAN was shown on WB Kids!, but both channels are owned by Warner Bros.). Whatever.  
  
Hey, read Impulse_H8er's fanfic in DC Superheroes! Part 2 coming soon???  
  
PallaPlease.  
The Tired.  
The Grumpy.  
The Should-Have-Gone-To-Bed-A-Couple-Hours-Ago.  
The Obsessed-With-Finding-An-Impulse-x-Arrowette-Fanfic. 


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